Overcoming the Serpent
by DarkAngelSnapeLover
Summary: Hermione is coming away from an abusive relationship four years after leaving Hogwarts. She married her love, Draco Malfoy, but things were very sour within their marriage. Can she recover from his abuse or is she scarred for life? AU, Dramione. Full summary inside. Rated M for domestic violence and intense language. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Hermione lived through the unthinkable during her first four years away from Hogwarts, which were also her first four years of marriage. Now she's recovering with the Weasley family, trying to rebuild her life while the old one destroys her from the inside out. Post-Dramione. Rated T for domestic violence, language, and sexual references. Be warned that this is a very dark piece, especially in the later chapters.

_Note: "Present Day" is about five years after Harry, Ron, Hermione and the others left Hogwarts. All other time notations are for the years between that time. I feel this piece is an alternate universe, so I've classified it into that world._

CHAPTER ONE

The car pulled away with a slight kick. It was older, putting out a cloud of exhaust on the empty street. The heat didn't work, casting a chilly glaze over the car's two occupants, a tall ginger with unruly hair and a shorter brunette with her hair cut as short as possible. Her eyes were large and filled with tears. She eyed the driveway she'd just left using the sideview mirror. The ginger caught her and cleared his throat.

"You can't blame yourself for anything that happened. Just be glad you're out of that hell hole once and for all, okay?" he said, stopping gently at a stop sign. "Hermione, are you able to speak? You haven't said anything since I got here."

"I'm fine, Ron," she murmured, smiling to him weakly. "I'm grateful for this, more than you'll ever know. I'm glad I've been rescued. I'll never forget, not in a million years."

"You remember Ginny telling you where we're going?" Ron asked. Hermione nodded gently, "We're going to The Burrow where we belong."

Ron nodded, easing away from the stop sign and making his way towards an empty road a few miles away. He would put the car into a special gear, helping it fly over the countryside towards his childhood home. He's be there with his sister and his friend, whose past would come out eventually. They wouldn't rush her, not after everything she'd been through. They'd listen with open ears, patiently letting Hermione remember things at her own pace.

_Four years ago…_

Hermione piled her broken cardboard box on the counter. She was shocked when Draco accepted her parents' offer to help with their first home, a Muggle home located twenty minutes from London. Magic likely avoided the street altogether, but it was the kind of street Hermione grew up in.

"What the hell do I do with this?" Draco asked, looking over the covered furniture with a disgusted look. Her parents had provided the furniture as well, all of it homely Muggle furniture that Draco had never encountered before. The fluffy recliner next to the fireplace caught his attention the most, and he poked at it with a finger.

"You'll get used to it, Draco. I'll help you," Hermione whispered. He scoffed, wiping his finger on his pants as if he'd touched something awful. "You agreed to this, Draco. We didn't have to move out here. I was comfortable taking your father's offer as well."

"He was lying," Draco scoffed, sitting on the coffee table. He immediately stood back up as the table creaked under his weight. "He wanted us to be on our own under his watchful eye. We would've been prisoners. I'm surprised he isn't here right now breathing down our necks. Make me some tea so I don't have to think about it."

"The pans are still in the truck," Hermione murmured, watching patiently as Draco gave the coffee table a swift kick, shattering the glass on top.

"I don't give a damn!" he raged, giving her a look that made her blood boil within seconds. "Get the fucking pans and make me some fucking tea!" he screamed. Hermione did as she was told. She'd never seen him like this before, but she didn't want to become the coffee table glass. She dug for the pans as fast as she could, getting it onto the stove as soon as she could.

She didn't noticed the neighbors eying her through the curtains. They knew what was happening even if the naïve newlywed had no clue. They put back their welcoming gifts of food; they wouldn't welcome him in with open arms, not after witnessing that during their first hour there.

_Present Day_

"Hermione, it's lovely to see you," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Sit down and I'll make you some tea," she grinned, patting her shoulder.

Hermione immediately shuddered, pulling away from Ginny's gentle hug with a fearful gaze.

"Mum, I don't think she wants anything," Ron whispered. "I'll show you upstairs to your room, Hermione. There's water if you're thirsty, and she'll bring you some light refreshments if you want."

"I'll be fine. Just…take me upstairs, please," Hermione said softly, leading the way up the staircase.

When she and Ron were far enough away, Mrs. Weasley pulled Ginny to her, "Was it something I said?" she asked sternly.

"She's been through a lot, Mum," Ginny replied, patting her mother's shoulder and pulling away from her. "Draco did unspeakable things in that house, Mum. We'll have to treat her better, and we'll have to retrain her to live life her own way again."

"And she's the one who—"

"Let's not talk about that, Mum," Ron called from the stairs. "Let's just make ourselves some lunch."

The Weasley's moved into the kitchen, ignoring the soft cries coming from Hermione's room, Ginny's old bedroom. They didn't say a word as they thought of other things, trying to keep their mind off the horrors young Hermione had gone through during her time away.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

_Four years ago…_

Hermione lay awake after a rough consummation. She and Draco had been together since the battle of Hogwarts ended, after having a romantic evening of recovery while everyone celebrated the defeat of Voldemort. She'd liked him for so long, eying him from across the Great Hall during meals or trying to sit next to him in her classes. She was happy he proposed a few months after they started dating, and his acceptance of Muggle marriage traditions made her love him even more.

But now her love had turned to pain. Blood seeped onto the sheets as the burning sensation within her grew stronger. She couldn't believe how their first day in their new home had gone. After his tea-related rampage, he'd thrown her burnt dinner at her, blistering her cheek. He then insisted on consummation right after dinner, forcing himself on top of her as she tried to make the bed. Immediately afterwards, he forced her to make the bed, ignoring her tears of pain as he escaped into the bathroom.

The moon flickered on the carpet next to the bed, littered with clothes from the event. Hermione wanted to clean them before she became a target again, but she couldn't make herself move. She needed medical attention, she knew, but she'd have to explain her injuries.

'He's just overexcited from the move. Things will get better,' she thought. She closed her eyes, believing her thoughts. Her next door neighbor, an elderly lady whose hair was wrapped to hide her curlers, eyed the now-dark home through her thin, lacy curtains. She'd documented every sound she'd heard, her hand shaking as she wrote. Hermione would never meet her, but she had a plan for her, a big plan: She was going to save her.

_Present Day_

Hermione moved downstairs, following the smell of dinner. Ginny made her a plate obediently as the front door opened. Harry moved inside, remaining silent as he made himself a plate alongside her. He looked weary from a day of work, but he knew what was going on within The Burrow, as Ginny left him a note at their home. Harry took care of the kids' few needs, as they were being watched by loyal Uncle George, then he immediately traveled to his wife to help with his old friend Hermione. They hadn't seen each other since she left to be with her new husband Draco, but Harry now knew why. The details were slim, but he knew what happened within that quiet suburban house, more than he'd ever tell the Weasley family.

"Thank you for the plate Ginny," Hermione whispered, immediately rushing the food into her mouth. The group watched her nervously. They remembered from their Hogwarts days and their many holidays together that Hermione was a very slow eater, often skipping dessert to finish her main course. Did Draco change her that much?

"Um, Ginny, I need to give you the sweaters I made for the kids. I hope I got the letters right. You know how my memory is these days," she chuckled nervously, eying Hermione as her food disappeared within seconds. "Hermione, do you need any more? There's plenty."

"I'll be fine," she muttered through her food, spraying her plate with crumbs. She ate them all, cleaning her plate so it appeared as it had when it was first cleaned. The group eyed her carefully, but when she noticed, they averted their eyes back to their own plates. "I'll help with the dishes."

"Oh, that won't be necessary, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled, pointing to the bewitched cleaning items. "There's some books in the room next to yours. Charlie wanted me to turn his room into a library, and now that George is eying apartments elsewhere, we could finally put the plan in motion without putting anyone out."

"I don't read much anymore, but I'll see what you have," Hermione whispered, standing and looking over the group. "I thank you very much for the food, for everything."

"Don't mention it, Hermione. You're like a daughter to me and I'd do anything for you," Mrs. Weasley grinned. She watched Hermione depart with sad eyes. Once the door to Charlie's room shut behind her, she gave Harry a stern glance. "You'll tell us everything. I don't give a damn what the Ministry told you about hiding the details. We want every moment."

"Later, Mum," Ron sighed. "Everything needs time."

"Not everything, not things like this!" Mrs. Weasley hissed, slamming her fork into her meat and slicing dangerously with her knife. "I want to know why a girl like her turned into a woman like that!" she spat, shoving a bite into her mouth and chewing furiously.

"With time, Mum, with time," Ginny whispered, though she was thinking the same thing.

_Four years ago…_

Hermione woke up to a Howler landing on her face. Draco left in the early morning hours to work with his father, leaving Hermione with plenty of time to, "CLEAN UP THIS FUCKING HOUSE!", as the Howler demanded. She ate a quick breakfast with the newly-found pans before tackling the house. The Howler flew around her, charmed to yell each item of her list while she worked. Scrubbing the baseboards, cleansing the counters, and doing the laundry she'd "NEGLECTED" after their night of fun.

Hermione worked tirelessly, skipping lunch so she could unpack their items and get them organized. She used her magic carefully, knowing that most of the curtains weren't up yet, but she did most of the work by hand like her parents had taught her.

When Draco returned that evening, he was in a foul mood. He brought home dinner from his mother, who was horrified that her new daughter-in-law couldn't cook properly. Hermione wanted to remind Draco that the burners were different in this house, but she remained silent. In fact, she wasn't saying a word. Draco didn't even notice; he ranted heavily about the Ministry after a day of being brainwashed by his father.

An hour after dinner, Draco demanded a hot shower. Hermione helped him, returning to the kitchen once he got in so that she could clean up the mess he'd made a dinner. While she was there, he started screaming about vermin in the shower. Hermione rushed in to handle the "huge roach," but Draco had already cursed the beast and sent it down the drain.

"These things disgust me. You get a charm on this house to make sure these bastards don't show up again," he demanded. Hermione nodded, drawing her wand. "Not in here, woman! I'm naked and dripping for bloody sake!" he screamed, forcing her from the room and slamming the door in her face.

She cast the charm, tiptoeing into the kitchen to finish her tasks. He found her there later, demanding more fun. She told him she couldn't, and surprisingly he listened. But he sulked into the bedroom, leaving her to continue scrubbing away at some spilled sauce.

When she tried to go to bed, she found the door charmed shut. She curled up on the couch without a blanket or proper pillow, as the linen closet was inside the master bathroom. Hermione was alone, shivering on the couch while Draco slept soundly in their marriage bed.

_Present Day_

"It's been two days since she left here, Mum. She should help us with the garden. It'll help her."

Ginny had tried everything to convince her mother to get Hermione down from her room. Despite claiming she didn't read, three books were missing from the library. Though Hermione was only taking meals on trays within her room, they knew those books were in there with her, though they didn't know much else. Mrs. Weasley didn't want to admit this was a problem.

"We need to give her some space. But if you insist on bothering a suffering woman, go get her. I'll be in the garden," she huffed, closing the backdoor sternly.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, stepping in from the living room. He'd just gotten back from helping George move into his new apartment in the city when he walked into yet another outburst from his mother. Ginny explained the situation to him while he put down some things George asked him to bring back. Ron decided Ginny was right, so the two journeyed upstairs together.

They knocked and called out for five minutes or more, but Hermione simply asked them to give her some space. Ginny wouldn't have it. She unlocked the door using a simple spell and stepped inside.

"Hermione, what is all this?!" Ginny gasped. Hermione had somehow brought in tons of yarn, possibly from Mrs. Weasley's personal sewing cabinet. Baby things littered the room, all of them sewn by Hermione, who was knitting and reading beside the window.

"Gardening doesn't interest me, but this does," Hermione said sternly.

"Well, are you expecting?" Ron asked. Hermione's eyes clouded over with slight tears, though she hid them well.

"Get out, Ron! Get out, Ginny! I want to be alone! I thought you understood that!" Hermione hissed. Before she could draw her wand to force them out, they left.

"We have to tell Mum about this," Ginny whispered once they were outside. Ron nodded in agreement as soft cries came from within the room. They walked away softly; they didn't want her to know they heard her cry.

_Four years ago…_

The first four months of Hermione's marriage were rocky and filled with screaming. Hermione could barely buy groceries without getting a Howler from Draco demanding why she was doing whatever it was she was doing. She felt unsafe in her home, constantly spied on by some outside magical source. She hadn't spotted the neighbors yet, specifically the elderly woman who was documenting everything. Hermione knew her because she often sat on her porch or gardened along the property line, but she never suspected the woman knew what was going on inside the house.

Hermione grew ill on the four-month anniversary, causing her to lock herself in the bathroom to be sick. Draco left her be; he didn't want to be a part of her loud retching, so he made himself scarce, staying the weekend with his parents and not returning until late Monday night. By then, Hermione wasn't any better, and Draco had no choice but to take her to a medical center, specifically St. Mungos.

Once there, they did special tests on Hermione. Draco left before they were completed, refusing to return until she could be discharged without throwing up everywhere. The hospital staff eyed him carefully, but Hermione didn't seem to notice how uncaring her new husband was. She just wanted to get well.

When the tests came back that evening, Hermione never expected them to tell her she was pregnant. They staff were excited, smiling brightly and fluffing her pillows with a new energy, but Hermione was too stunned to be excited. She didn't know how Draco would react, and since her "throwing up everywhere" would continue for as long as her body wanted, he might not even let her leave.

But two days later, he returned, escorting her home without a word.

"Did they tell you?" Hermione asked. He grunted, nodding slightly. "What do you think about it?"

"Your mudblood better not keep my child out of Hogwarts," he spat, stunning Hermione into complete silence. He hadn't called her that since their early Hogwarts years, and she thought he'd learned to treat her better after their run-in during their third year.

Once they were home, Hermione found the guest bedroom was now hers. He wanted no part of her, which turned out to be a plus: He didn't yell or hit her for weeks.

When she lost the baby a week after their fifth anniversary, the abuse was relentless. Hermione suffered through, blaming herself for the loss of life. She promised to try harder, letting him take her even though she was scarred from his relentless force. She had to produce an heir, a worthy heir, to make her husband and his family happy. She had to; she felt her life depended on it.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

_Three years ago…_

Hermione scrubbed gently at the counters while her in-laws laughed behind her. Draco invited them over for the Christmas holiday, and Hermione ordered in a full meal to keep them content. She hadn't cooked in months, accepting Draco's advice that they were better off ordering-in.

"Tell me, dear, when do you expect to have children?" Narcissa asked, eying Hermione with discontent. Draco must've told her about the three lost babies, but she didn't seem to know.

"Oh who cares, Mother?" Draco spat, casting a charm that turned on the latest Quidditch game. "My favorite team plays after this one. Do you think they can win the cup, Father?" he asked.

"My own son ignoring his mother? How pathetic," Narcissa scoffed, standing to face Hermione properly. "Come on now, tell me when."

"I don't know," Hermione whispered. Narcissa laughed, eying her husband and son carefully, "Every witch knows when. Did you parents not teach you anything?"

"She has Muggle parents, Narcissa. Sit down and watch the game," Lucius said sternly. His wife obeyed, sitting down meekly.

Hermione scrubbed and cleaned while the game was on, and she was ignored the rest of the evening.

_Present Day_

"I don't see why your father can't hear this," Mrs. Weasley scoffed, sitting down at the kitchen table. Ron and Ginny almost pushed their father out the door to get him out of the way after breakfast. Hermione was still upstairs sleeping, and Harry was in the living room flipping through the morning paper.

"Mum, have you seen in her room?" Ginny asked, sitting beside her mother. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, giving her only daughter a dirty look. "I know it's an invasion of privacy, but I needed to see inside. She's knitting baby things, tons of them. Have you noticed any missing yarn?"

"She asked me for the yarn. She wanted to make a few things for herself to make up for leaving so many of her things behind. But she's making—well is she expecting something? After what Harry told me, that man could not have been human," Mrs. Weasley spat, raising up slightly in her seat until they shook their heads. "Well that's a relief. But…we need to get her more serious help, don't we?"

"I've been doing some research about psychology. We studied a little during Muggle studies, but the subject grew with some wizards. There's one specialist in St. Mungo's. I've sent him an owl or two but I haven't heard anything yet. I plan on visiting tomorrow to check in, speed up the process, but only if you allow me to," Ron explained. Mrs. Weasley smiled, looking up to her daughter's pleading face.

"I think we need to do what we have to. Harry says the Ministry is willing to help her through everything. They um…found a journal at the scene, well next door. The house has been empty for three years, they said, but the entries didn't stop until…well, you know," she said, looking us as Hermione appeared. "Can I get you some breakfast, love?"

Hermione nodded, taking a seat at the table.

"I have some things to take care of at home," Ginny said, standing up. "I'm available if you need me though."

Hermione remained silent. A plate was set in front of her and she ate quickly, clearing the plate as she'd done before. Ginny watched from the doorway, her hand within Harry's. They left The Burrow solemnly.

"I don't like coming here while she's here. It's too depressing," Ginny whispered. Harry nodded in agreement. He didn't want to tell his wife that's why he'd been taking so many extra hours, but he felt she already knew. She did.

_Three years ago…_

Hermione sat over a toilet yet again. Draco had been gone for three weeks now, but he'd made sure she did her duties. A Howler bounced against the bathroom door, begging her to clean the kitchen because it wasn't shiny anymore. She'd been cooped up in the bathroom for two days throwing up, and she knew from other signs that she was expecting again.

Through the bathroom window, she watched the house next door empty itself into the arms of three disgruntled-looking movers. The elderly woman who owned the home and the things inside stood on the lawn with her arms crossed, guarding her flowerbed and garden gnomes. Her eyes were locked on the house while a woman, presumably her daughter, begged her to come over to her house.

"Mum, please come inside with me. It's not like any of it's going very far. Come on, you'll get sick staying out here in the sun for so long," she huffed, sighing as her husband brought out a glass of water. "Oh bloody hell, Mum, get over here!" she called angrily.

"I'm not going anywhere you selfish hog. Get in the house yourself. I'll be fine," she said, nodding curtly before her eyes steadied on the house again.

Hermione ducked down to get sick again, her mouth watering before the latest round at the glass of water. She wished someone would do something like that for her, but she knew her friends were distant memories, and her parents' letters sat unopened and unanswered for six months or more.

"The dishes! Clean the fucking dishes!" the Howler screamed, finally slamming the door too hard. It was very rare, but the paper lost its charm. It landed with a distinct thud outside the door. Hermione was grateful. She was tired of being screamed at, but she had no other choice.

She begged the life inside her to take a firm hold. She'd get seven months with this one, feeling its movement and getting baby furniture for the guest room where she slept. But Draco would end this one with a blow to her head.

"It's simple reheating you fucking bitch! How the fuck did you char it!" he screamed, the blow landing so hard she fainted. When she came to, she felt weak and empty inside. Her baby bump was gone and so was her husband.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

_Present Day_

Ginny asked her mother to come over with a simple letter. Harry wrote it for her, his handwriting appearing charming on the little note. George was already there, enjoying toast with their first two kids while telling silly stories. Mrs. Weasley arrived by floo powder a second after the letter arrived.

"Hermione is in the shower right now, so be quick!" she demanded, taking a heavy seat at the table.

"Well what's got you in such a hurry, Mum. I thought she bathed daily," George chuckled. His mother shot him an aggravated look.

"Hermione wants to go into London to get some shoes. I told her I'd accompany her since Ginny was busy with the children. Why'd you want me over here? It looks like Harry left ages ago."

"He did, Mum," Ginny nodded, her eyes twinkling as she smiled brightly. "I'm expecting!"

"Oh, Ginny, number three!" her mother cheered. "I had five by the time I was your age, but that's not important right now. Congratulations! When do you think it'll come? Spring? Summer? Tomorrow?" her mother begged.

"I'll go for the proper test tomorrow, but Harry and I brewed a home potion last night. We felt comfortable breaking the news early," Ginny beamed, eying her older brother carefully. He was making a funny face, and she threw a napkin at him for revenge.

"I want everyone to keep this from Hermione. What I haven't told her is that we're taking a little side trip. Ronnie's persistence paid off with the Ministry officials, so she'll be seen by a proper psychologist today. And…I'm working on a meeting with her parents. They've been out of touch with her for years now, and we really need to reunite them."

"Leave it to Hermione to make this happy moment so drab," George sighed. "I'm happy for you, Gin, but I wish our friend was in better shape. It really is bringing the household down. Percy's afraid to return home because of her."

"Oh stop your nonsense joking, George," Mrs. Weasley scoffed, heading for the fireplace. "Be good to yourself, Ginny. G'bye, kids," Mrs. Weasley nodded. The kids waved gently, beaming like their mother as they ate their breakfast.

"You're wrong about her ruining the moment, George," Ginny murmured as she cleaned the dishes. "I was hoping Mum would tell her so she could get involved, take her mind off her troubles. She might even be able to put all that knitting to good use."

"You think a wittle bitty baby-waby will make everything right, Sis? You are so naïve," George scoffed, helping her with the dishes. "Hermione went through more than you could ever imagine. She…well you know what she did," he whispered, eying the children carefully.

"Kids, go upstairs and put on your boots. We're going for a walk," Ginny called to them. Moments later, all they heard was giggling from the kids' room. "George, I know what she did to Draco, but what I don't know is what he did to her. She needs to tell us if she wants us to help her. She told Ron a little, but she's always been close to him. She won't even speak to Harry. He tried talking to her last week with no luck."

"He's a hard worker like Draco. I wouldn't talk to him either," George grinned, laughing slightly. "It's going to take more than we know. That's why we're getting her some professional help: We can't give her what she needs. Mum will tell us what they say when she gets back tonight. I suggest you just sit tight until then."

Ginny sighed, following her rambunctious children outside. They walked around the house examining plants. Albus Severus made a flower bloom by accident, making them all smile. Ginny kept the moment to herself; she didn't know if anyone else would even listen.

_Two years ago…_

Hermione swept the front porch, careful to keep her eyes from the peering neighbors. She'd wondered for days now if they were the ones who were really spying, their judgmental Muggle eyes staring in their direction constantly. She knew they could hear the yelling, and if they peered hard enough, they could probably see the dirty counter that set off this morning's Howler. Draco spilt a potion meant to make Hermione more fertile, a gift from his mother, and it melted the countertop. She couldn't scrub it clean, so she made the Howler disappear with a simple fire spell.

"I bet you saw that too, didn't you?" Hermione muttered, sweeping harder. A neighbor walked by, waving gently, but Hermione kept her head down. "I can't talk to any of you. It'll only make it worse."

Every night, he raped her, trying his hardest to get himself a proper heir. He'd dose her meals with fertility potions, then force himself on her while calling her ugly names. "Mudblood" didn't even sting like it once did, and she was getting used to the tearing pain and morning bleeding she'd been experiencing for months. She knew that's why she couldn't get pregnant, her battered body constantly healing itself from his blows, but he didn't care.

Another Howler came in the back window. She'd missed the back patio where a rust stain formed. She finished the front porch, moving to the back to begin scrubbing away the rust by hand. The neighbors watched, their cold eyes making her skin prick up.

"Why don't you do something rather than sit on your arses and watch me die?!" she hissed as she scrubbed and scrubbed, making herself so tired that she nearly fainted. She didn't have the energy to finish the job. There would be more beatings tonight.

_Present Day_

"Mum, where's Hermione?" Ron asked as his mother served him a plate. Her upstairs room sat empty, the door wide open. His mother didn't answer, making him angry. "We can't keep secrets here. Tell me where she is!"

"They admitted her, Ron. She was too broken, too scarred. Oh, it's horrid!" his mother sobbed, tossing a dish towel into her face to muffle the sound.

"Mum, calm down, that's what we wanted!" Ron begged, but her sobbing continued. "She'll get better! I know she'll get better!"

"It's not that simple, Ron. They…they just can't get through to her. She won't speak anymore, not after they found the book!"

"What book?" Ron asked sternly. Mrs. Weasley sighed, plopping down a journal on the table. "This? What is this?"

"A Muggle wrote it. That's a copy Arthur made for me," Mrs. Wealsey sighed, sitting down across from her son and sniffling slightly. "She documented everything. She…she knew about our world. The Ministry is furious, so they're questioning Hermione more than they should. She won't talk now, not a word. She'd been paranoid about the neighbors for a while, they assume. Did she ever tell you that?"

"I'll be honest with you. I only heard what I knew from the Ministry officials who told me what happened. They searched the house, told me he'd abused her badly, and asked if I'd come get her when the questions stopped. As soon as the last one left, I drove up and retrieved her. She said nothing, just what I've told you she said. Ginny was able to contact her using the phone in the house, so she knew where we were going. Everything happened like I said, aside from that first part. I'm sorry I lied about that."

"Don't be sorry, Ron. I should've known this would spiral," Mrs. Weasley sighed, standing and serving herself some food. "That book has everything she's ever witnessed. She became obsessed with our world when she lived near Harry's aunt and uncle. She saw him arrive as a baby. She's the reason he never got Dumbledore's letter."

"Dumbledore? What did he have to do with anything?" Ron asked, giving his mother a perplexed look.

"He and Hagrid delivered Harry to those horrid people. She saw the basket laying there. She said there was either a woman or a cat there too that she had to wait on, but when all of them were gone, she checked things out. She read the letter they left to explain things to Harry. She knew they wouldn't give it to him, so she took it. She could never get it to him once he grew older because they abused him so, oh the torment he faced!" Mrs. Weasley cried.

"Get to the point, Mum. How did she know about our world, about Hermione?"

"She just watched from her window. She knows we get our mail by owl, and thanks to those damned Howlers Draco sent her all the time, she knows about those too. She saw loads of things from Harry's childhood home. You're lucky she missed your flying car both times. She wanted to watch Hermione leave, just to make sure she'd be in good hands."

"So the woman meant no harm? Why are they being so hard on Hermione then?"

"The Ministry doesn't have much of a choice, I'm afraid," she sighed, picking at her food. "They'll flip if they find out I have that book. Harry wasn't supposed to tell us anything, but…she's lucky they don't have her locked up in prison somewhere for what she did. I'm glad they see domestic violence as a problem, and they aren't afraid to take the victim's side if things go sour."

"And the woman will be okay?" Ron asked. Mrs. Weasley shrugged, sighing heavily. "Do you think we'll ever know what all he did?"

"You can read what she wrote, but I wouldn't, Ron. It's just too difficult to see someone you love as a family member go through such things. Just let her tell you in her own time, if she's ever able to," Mrs. Weasley whispered, looking up as Harry and Ginny entered the room, their kids in tow. Her husband followed them inside.

The news was announced and dinner commenced. It was a quiet dinner, a rare sight in a home like The Burrow.

_Two years ago…_

Hermione peered out the guest bedroom window at the rainy weather outside. Draco had locked her inside, letting in a friend of his mother's to do the cleaning. She'd made too many mistakes, and the deep gash on her cheek proved how far she'd fallen.

Draco was angry, very angry, that she'd gone another month without becoming pregnant. Add on another burnt meal and a messy laundry room, and Hermione almost deserved the vicious slap to the face, the slap that slammed her into the counter as she fell. He refused to treat her. He simply locked her away.

She looked over the room and its knickknacks. Baby things littered one corner, personal boxes in another. At least Draco had the decency to throw some of her things in there with her, though it was just another sign that he was pulling away from her. Hermione felt divorce on the horizon, something she realized she was secretly hoping for. After everything they'd been through together, or rather that she had been through, divorce felt like a nice final option.

A crack of thunder roared through the house. Hermione looked up to see the rain falling harder. Then, the power flickered off. Draco, who must've been in their room doing something, stormed to the guest room and burst through the door.

"FIX IT! FIX IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" he demanded, dragging her to her feet and forcing her to stand.

"I can't. You can't control the power from inside the house; it comes from outside," Hermione babbled, her voice shrill and scared. In the darkness, Draco seemed to have a dark glow about him, something terrifying.

"I don't give a damn where the fuck it comes from! FIX IT!" he roared, shaking her as another blast of thunder sounded from outside. Hermione faltered, nearly falling where she stood, but Draco ripped her upwards. A crack sounded in the room and Hermione tried to crumple down from the pain. "Get up! Get up! FIX THIS NOW!" he screamed.

"I…I cant."

"You will!"

"I can't!" Hermione screamed, breaking into sobs. "I can't do it! I can't do anything!"

"Damn right you fucking mudblood," Draco scoffed, turning and locking the door. He was gone, leaving her on the floor writhing in pain. It was too much, far too much, and she felt herself fall back onto herself. Something within, a darkness, called to her. She embraced it. It saved her from herself, from the world outside. It saved her.

_Present Day_

"She won't speak," Mr. Weasley murmured, putting down his morning paper and sipping at his cup of tea. "I couldn't tell you that while your mother was here, but she won't speak."

"What do you think the problem is?" Ginny asked, passing a plate to Ron as he walked into the room. Their mother was in the garden tending to a wild beast that was trying to eat the vegetables, giving them all a moment alone.

"I read some of her journal, the Muggle woman's journal. Did Mum tell you about it?" Ron asked. The others nodded. "He yelled at her from day one, tormented her from afar. She didn't know how he knew, but he saw everything within that house. He knew when things were dirty, when things were broken. He'd send her the Howlers to get her to work harder and harder…" he trailed off, looking up to his sister. "Don't ever tell her you're expecting again. She won't be able to take it."

"Why not?" George asked, taking a seat and calling over a plate using a levitation spell.

"He wanted her to get pregnant so badly. His mother was involved, some kind of treatments were involved, and he was definitely involved. He…I can't say it. I just can't bloody say it!" Ron exclaimed, leaving the table swiftly.

"One more thing before your mum gets back," Mr. Weasley whispered, peering out the back door to make sure she wasn't coming. "In the physical examination, they found a lot of evidence. He did horrid things to her. They think that's why she won't speak. Remembering all of that hardship broke her mind, her spirit. That's why she doesn't read anymore," he said, tossing a book onto the table. They immediately recognized it as one of the books she had in her room.

"The pages are gone!" George gasped, opening the book. Hermione meticulously cut out the text part of each book, leaving only white or yellow pages.

"We should've made contact with her. We knew something was going on by how she never wrote or answered us," Ginny said quickly. Her father rubbed her hand gently. "We should've known."

"We didn't expect this, love. No one did."

The backdoor opened and they immediately silenced, continuing with breakfast without a word.

_Two years ago…_

Voices, three of them. One male, two females. One female familiar, the other one not. Hermione thought it was a dream, a vivid painful dream. She'd been out one day? Two days? She lost count within the blackness, the comforting blackness that overcame her. She was happy within it. She didn't feel the pain. She didn't know she was being replaced, that the voices made sounds she'd never heard before.

Fake, all of it fake. She wished she'd never been married. The darkness answered: She didn't reject Ron's advances, she didn't fall in love with Draco. She was never a mudblood in a pure house. She never lived.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

_Present Day_

"How long were you all going to sit around waiting?!" Mrs. Weasley raged. It was past ten at night and most eyes were weary from the long day. It was a day for planting some things in the garden, which meant hard work for everyone. Even Ginny's young children got involved, carrying baskets with seeds for the adults. They were asleep upstairs while their mother half-sat, half-laid on the couch.

"You'll have to be more specific, Mum. We're all rather tired here," Ginny sighed, scraping some left over dirt from under her nails.

"I just got an owl from St. Mungo's about Hermione's condition. How long has she been silent?" Mrs. Weasley raged, tossing the letter onto her daughter's chest.

"I didn't want to worry you, dear. It's my fault," Mr. Weasley sighed, weary from his Ministry job. His wife didn't seem to notice his tiredness either as she slammed her foot down onto the floor.

"I will not have you hiding such things from me! She needs to talk! She needs to get better!" Mrs. Weasley screamed.

"These sorts of things don't fix themselves, Mum," George murmured, looking up from a cup of tea. "I should know with all that I've been through."

"We've all been through things, George! It didn't turn any of us to stone!" his mother combatted.

"I didn't sleep, eat, drink, or speak after we got home, Mum. It's normal. Leave it be and let's get ready for bed," George sighed.

"He was my son too! I'm not implying we didn't suffer, but Hermione can overcome this! She has to speak!"

"Give it up, Mum," Ron whispered, heading up the stairs to his room.

Mrs. Weasley ranted for hours until her husband gave her some tranquilizing potion mixed in with her tea. With her calm, the house could rest. Ginny slept in the living room, or tried to. Her eyes were wide open. Whatever happened to Hermione in that house was enough to break her spirit forever. She wanted more answers too, but she was with her siblings: All Hermione needed was time.

_One year ago…_

Hermione looked around her house like she would a stranger's. Her mother's quilt, kept on the couch when their old furniture was moved as a welcoming present, sat wrinkled in the corner, soaking up excess water from a plant she didn't recognize. Someone took down her father's paintings, all of them rare first editions and all of them ruining in the garden.

Draco snapped his fingers, breaking her thoughts. She approached, bowing slightly.

"Yes, master?" she asked. She then heard the cry of a baby, someone else's baby. But it was hers to care for. She had to obey. She had to obey Draco's orders.

"Keep that damn thing quiet," he hissed, pointing to the master bedroom. Another woman was on her side of the bed, a woman recovering from child birth. Her child lay where Hermione's dresser once sat, crying in a bassinet sent from Draco's mother.

"I thought you'd never come! Make that thing be quiet, will you?" the mother begged. Hermione nodded, moving to the child. Blonde locks covered his face. Was it really her baby? He looked just like his father, so she must be the mother. "You'll have to pick him up or something. He won't silence himself."

Hermione cradled the child. He was too heavy, then he was too light. The darkness called to her, "Want to make sure he doesn't cry again?" Hermione didn't answer. She walked around the rug, one from Lucius to replace Hermione's rug. She saw the uplifted spot. She tripped anyway.

A scream came from the mother while Hermione was comforted by the darkness. She'd silenced the baby forever. He'd never make another sound.

_Present Day_

The hospital asked them all to stay away for two weeks. Ginny could no longer go because her bump would be too obvious, and her busy husband never had the time. Only Ron and George could go without causing problems, as Mrs. Weasley had neglected too many tasks and Mr. Weasley couldn't take off any more days from work.

With so much time apart from Hermione, things returned to semi-normal within The Burrow. Mrs. Weasley rarely yelled, and Ginny's kids made her laugh frequently. Before she'd look back at them with sad eyes; the kids often asked their mother what was wrong with her, but Ginny looked at them with the same sad eyes.

Now that they had time away, they could think about their own problems and not Hermione's failed marriage. Ginny took up knitting for her new baby, deciding against using Hermione's things because of the meanings behind them. The journal confirmed that he'd almost forced her to try to become pregnant, and while cries could be heard from the house within the last year or so, Hermione was never pregnant. They had no idea what made the crying noises, but they didn't want to approach the woman. The Ministry probably used a memory charm on her anyhow, meaning she would remember nothing from any of the events.

But two weeks pass quickly, and Ron traveled with George to St. Mungo's to visit Hermione. They were immediately sent to a quiet room to talk with her doctors.

"She's made progress, but…she's a broken woman, and I doubt she'll recover from this. There were more lives taken than the one. She barely remembered them after they happened, but now that she's out of the situation, the memories are crippling. We're tempted to erase all of her memories between her graduation and now, but that is very controversial," the doctor explained. Ron sighed, shaking his head weakly.

"I know it's tempting, but that's not the way to do this," he whispered. The doctor nodded.

"She's asked for a music box from her room. It's mahogany and contains her favorite song," the doctor murmured. The Weasley boys nodded; they'd bring it the following morning.

They left the hospital without seeing her. They decided to tell the family nothing. They wanted them to think she was just fine.

_One year ago…_

Hermione looked up from the guest room as a half-molded bread loaf was thrown inside. It had been four days since she ate, though she'd gotten water through a cracked window. She was hungry, devouring as much of the bread as she could. It tasted funnier than it should, but she didn't care.

The door opened again and Lucius stepped forward, his cane tapping on the floor. His face was dark and menacing. Hermione felt herself shiver as she chewed the molded bread.

"You're pathetic, a worthless human being, a mudblood from the depths of nothingness. You will die slowly and painfully for what you did, and not one bloody person will give a damn," he said in an even voice, a dark undertone making Hermione shivered as she swallowed the huge bite. "You're too stupid to realize what you've done, where you're going. You're pathetic and I'll enjoy watching you die."

He threw down her wand, watching it roll under her bed. He smirked slightly, "You'll never be able to do anything meaningful with it anyhow."

With that he turned on one heel and stepped from the room. Locks were replaced, then menacing laughter came from the front room.

The darkness flickered in and out. Hermione looked to it, smiling softly. It had kept her company despite what it did, what it saw. Now it was calling her again, "He'll be alone soon."

Memories waved past her eyes, memories of the horrid life she'd had as Mrs. Draco Malfoy. She felt her scars, physical and emotional, all at once. She knew the voice was right, the darkness was correct in its choice.

The front door closed. Hermione stood, weakly at first, moving to where her wand rolled. She grabbed it and faced the door.

It flew open with the first spell she used. Draco sat on the couch, smiling slightly as she emerged.

"Maybe we were wrong about you," he grinned.

She hated his smile, his laugh, his everything. She raised her wand.

"What are you doing?" he asked, laughing.

She hated his smile, his laugh, his everything. She said the curse.

He wouldn't smile, laugh, or exist anymore.

_Present Day_

Hermione opened the box, smiling slightly. She'd somehow kept her time-turner, a dangerous device. She barely remembered her third-year, when she'd used the device to save the term. She'd knocked out Malfoy during those times. She should've hit him harder, and she eventually did, but she had to do something.

She stood, watching the world reverse around her. The ward she was in was opened five years ago, giving her the perfect place to stop. She was a part of the tour when it opened, giving her the opportunity to fade back into her life, but without all the problems.

The group stepped into the room, minus Hermione Granger. She stopped turning time, joining the group with a smile. She'd worn a dress she brought with her, surprising her doctor. He thought she was recovering, beginning to do better, but really she was putting her plan into place.

As she finished the tour, she felt her "past" fading. She would forget what she'd been through with time, but for now, she had to make sure it would never happen.

"Oi, Hermione!" a voice called. She looked down the street to see Ron Weasley, his hair in an untidy mess. "Want to grab a coffee with me?" he asked. Hermione nodded, following him to their favorite café.

"I didn't expect to see you today. I thought you'd be at The Burrow visiting Charlie," Hermione smiled, happy that she could remember such small details.

"He's helping Ginny with the baby. I got tired of hearing him scream," Ron groaned, leading them to their usual table after their drinks arrived. "I wanted to see you before you went off into the countryside with that study group. I…I wanted to tell you how I feel. I know we've talked about it before and you said you had to think about it, but—"

"Ron, stop," Hermione whispered, taking his hand. "I needed to work through some things, but…if you can accept my career choices, then I don't mind being with you," she smiled. Ron smiled too, sighing heavily.

"I didn't expect that," he panted, breathing heavily. "I think I'd be sick if you weren't here with me."

"Well I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

~End


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